


I Dream of You So Often It's Like You Never Leave

by jollux



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, set between s12 and s13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 22:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20320657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollux/pseuds/jollux
Summary: Loving you is so easy, I can do it in my sleepI dream of you so often it’s like you never leaveMac's been having dreams about Dennis since he left.





	I Dream of You So Often It's Like You Never Leave

**Author's Note:**

> This was way harder to write than I thought it'd be lol I realized I hadn't written anything explicit since I was 14 (yikes) and have way more shame now as an adult. Enjoy nonetheless.
> 
> Title is from Coyote Song by Bright Eyes

Mac wasn’t really sure how often most people had sex dreams, but he assumed that only one in a  _ good  _ week was a little excessive. Waking up at four in the morning every few days and having to more or less wake up so he can jerk off and finally fall back asleep seems like a little much and he was way fucking over it.

For the third time in a week he bolted up in bed, sweating, with his heart trying to hammer its way out of his ribcage. Jerking awake to the feeling of hands creeping their way down his chest and a mouth doing a number on his neck wasn’t as awful as he wished it was. In a way, he thought that it would be easier if he hated it. Maybe that way his subconscious could get the message and stop pumping it all into his psyche. It was Freudian, really, which Mac did not care for, Freud was just a little science bitch who spent his whole career trying to justify why it was totally chill that he wanted to fuck his mom.

He woke up hard,  _ painfully _ so, and angry about having to get up to take care of it. He splashed cold water on his face and shaking his head when all was said and done to try to clear his thoughts, to try to not remember that to get off he mentally continued what he saw in his dream.

Sometimes his dreams were about Dennis. Okay,  _ most _ of the time they were about Dennis, probably about nine times out of ten. Once Mac had dream-fucked this cute new barista at the Starbucks down the street, but he considered that more like a fluke than anything else.

The dreams weren’t even always about sex, or at least it didn’t always start that way. Last week he dreamt that he and Dennis had been out for their monthly dinner, and it was all so painfully  _ normal _ , he could have sworn it was real. Then they’d gotten back to the apartment and had what felt like absolutely mind blowing sex. If Mac was being honest, some similar things had happened after getting back from the dinners, but his subconscious amplified it all. 

A few had no sex at all, surprisingly, once he dreamt that he was walking home late at night, tired and cold, and when he unlocked and opened the front door Dennis was sitting at the table. He looks up when Mac enters, pushing an old chipped coffee mug away from him. Mac is stunned, unsure of what to say, whether it was Dennis or some weird ghost or hallucination thing. “You,” he starts, taken aback and confused. “You’re back.”

“Of course I am, dumb ass,” Dennis smiles, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He gets up, walking towards where Mac was standing in the doorway, door still wide open to the hallway. Dennis grips the door, easing it close, pushing Mac further backwards until his back is up against it, and Mac lets him. Dennis settles his hand on the door to the left of Mac’s head, the other on the door knob, boxing him in.

“Why?” The only word Mac’s shocked voice manages to force out.

“You didn’t really think I’d just leave like that, did you? Of course I came back, I’ll always come back, Mac.”

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, it was entirely hollow, until it fills again with something that feels like hope. Like  _ yeah, there’s no way Dennis would run away and forget about him _ , he thought, and he wants so bad to believe him that he almost did.

Dennis’s hand finds its way from the doorknob to his shoulder, sliding over to flatten down the collar of his peacoat (God, it looked  _ good _ , maybe he should look to buy one in real life). “I missed you,” he says, his voice is soft and with no edge.

“I missed you, too,” Mac answers, gripping onto Dennis’s waist, like he knew exactly what to do, and pulled him closer.

Dennis grins wide, it’s near contagious, and Mac can’t help but smile back. Dennis reaches up and lifts Mac’s chin with a gentle nudge. His eyes scanned over Mac’s face before leaning in to kiss him, soft and sweetly.

Mac hated that one the most, it was recurring, too, and if he sees it for a third time this month he might scream. The sex ones were easier, it was easier to remove Dennis from the equation and just assume it was because he missed him (in a totally platonic bro way), and also wanted to have sex, and the two were in no way related. He could go on a hookup app or to a bar and pick up some guy and have a stand in for Dennis for the night, but the emotional bullshit made the water a little more murky.

He tried that once, he downloaded Tinder after Dee told him he just need to fuck to feel better. Mac had hoped to God that she was right. He had planned to meet up at a bar on a Wednesday night with the first guy he hit it off with on the app, who Mac is pretty sure was named Ethan. Ethan was nice, tallish with a twink body, wearing tortoise shell glasses, a button up, and a cardigan. He was sweet, and had an apartment really close to the bar, which was convenient and probably planned on his part. The sex was pretty good, too, but hook ups didn’t seem like the answer to his problems. When everything was said and done, and they were lying down on Ethan’s bed still tipsy from the bar, covered in sweat and chests heaving, Mac didn’t feel any better. There was a few minutes of silence, when neither of them were sure what to say to break the heavy stillness. 

Ethan sighed “So, uh, that was good,” he said, tentatively.

Mac didn’t reply, and when Ethan turned to him, he was crying. It was embarrassing as all hell. He didn’t know what to do, and just froze. This had never happened before, during hookups with men or women or whoever, or really sex in general, he was too much of a badass. Ethan seemed equally off guard, but held Mac as he sobbed, neither entirely sure why or even what was even happening. On the inside Mac wanted so badly for the floor to open up and swallow him whole, but despite the embarrassment it was nice. The feeling of strong arms around him made him feel safe, and when he closed his eyes he imagined it was Dennis holding him. He left before Ethan woke up the next morning, and tried hard not to cry on a 7:00am subway surrounded by everyone on their way to work.

Sex was something where he could find a stand-in for, but all the lame emotions were more complicated. No matter how hot a guy he meets at a bar is and no matter how good the sex is, it can’t replace the feeling he gets in his dreams when Dennis says he would never be gone for good, never leave him like he did.

If the dreams could just fucking stop maybe then Mac could move on. It was obvious that Dennis had, they hadn’t spoken on the phone yet this month, longer than that since Dennis had been the one to call first, and he hadn’t even replied to Mac’s last text message from three days ago. The hard part was that his subconscious was keeping the memory of Dennis alive and well, every night in his head it was like he had never left. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had dreams (regular or sex related) about Dennis before, when you spend so much time with one person it’s not surprising, but nearly every goddamn night? Really? It was a bit excessive, he had to admit. He was stopping himself from accepting that Dennis was gone and if his brain could just give it a fucking rest maybe he could really get the message.

Dennis wasn’t coming back, he made that painfully clear, but it wasn’t easy to just turn off twenty years of feelings in an instant. Mac deep down had always known that Dennis would never return anything he’d ever felt, and that he could never seem to will that into existence. He needed to find a way to get over Dennis and feel something for someone else for once in his life because this just wasn’t cutting it. He’d never managed in the past few months to get over the thought of just walking into the apartment one day and Dennis sitting at the table on his phone, or watching TV on the couch just like he’d never left. The recurring dream of that exact thing didn’t help, but he couldn’t stop holding his breath whenever he swung open the front door, wanting so fucking bad for things to be like they were before. The apartment felt too big for just one person, it was empty and lonely.

* * *

The next night, Mac fell asleep early, probably sometime around midnight after drinking too much too early in the night he had just decided to call it quits. Not being able to drink for as long throughout the day made him feel 100 years old but his tired bones were craving sleep like it’s oxygen and who was he to deprive them any longer, it doesn’t take long until he’s under.

After hours of a peaceful, dreamless sleep (thank you, alcohol), a weight sinks into the other side of the bed. It’s jarring, feeling someone else’s beside you when you live alone. Mac scrambles around the bedside table trying to turn on the light, and knocking his phone and an old coffee mug to the floor in his wake. In the glow of his bedside lamp he makes out the shape of someone else beside him, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He thinks that maybe this is the end, maybe someone broke in and he’s about to be stabbed to death or have his throat slit or something way more gruesome than that.

“Dennis?” He blurts out in shock. “What the fuck?” The volume and pitch of his voice raising. He was 90% sure this was real.

“Shut up, Jesus Christ, I just got off a redeye,” Dennis groans burying his head into the pillow to hide from the light.

“No way, dude! What are you doing here?” Mac nearly yells.

“Come on, man, I’m so tired, just go to sleep.”

“You sneak into my room in the middle of the night, get into my bed, I thought you were going to kill me! I’ve got the right to ask a few fucking questions!”

“Fine! You want answers? Fine!” Dennis groans, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows.

Mac’s taken aback by how easily Dennis gave into his request and finds himself stumbling over his words. “What are youーwhat? Why?”

“Why am I here?” Dennis clarifies. Mac nods, still dumbfounded and unable to make his words make sense. “I just had to leave, at least for a bit.”

“So, what? You just up and left in the middle of the night?”

“I told her my mom was sick and I had to go back to Philly right away, and I just guessed you wouldn’t have changed the locks.” Dennis leans back down, turning onto his side towards Mac and closing his eyes, assuming the conversation was over.

Mac pauses for a moment, trying to process everything that’s happening in his foggy, tired brain. “But, your mom is dead,” Mac says, like that’s the part of this he didn’t understand.

“I know,” Dennis answers, not bothering to open his eyes. “But Brian’s isn’t. Or maybe she will be in a week, I’m not sure yet. Are you done yet? Can I just fucking sleep now?”

“No! Dude, come on! What are you doing in  _ my  _ bed?”

“The other room doesn’t have one, dumb ass.” He sits up more this time, glaring at Mac for continually interrupting his rest.

“Oh, yeah, right. But, like, you made that whole show of leaving, that everything was over, and now, what? You want to just march back in here like nothing happened? You can’t do that, you can just decide what life you want depending on the day!”

“It’s not like that!” They were both nearly yelling now, Dennis sat cross legged across the bed from Mac, he sighed and put his head down in his hands for a moment. It had been months since he’s been this close but it still feels like he’s a million miles away. “I thoughtーI thought I was doing the right thing, being responsible and going to go be a dad, but I just don’t think I can fucking do it. I thought that it would make me happy, all that nuclear family bullshit, just like it’s supposed to, but it doesn’t! I look at her and I feel nothing, and I look at that kid and I justーI feel  _ nothing _ . That’s not what it was supposed to be like, man, and I don’t know. I don’t know,” his voice softened, he sounded so small, staring straight past Mac into the darkness, the small IKEA bedside table lamp barely giving off life. He took a deep breath, recollecting himself and looking back to Mac. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Mac asks, everything Dennis was saying was all over the place and it left his head spinning.

“How did you know you were gay?” Dennis’s voice is soft and unsure, like if he spoke to loudly he’d disrupt the still air that made its home in the two feet between them.

Put on the spot, Mac isn’t really sure how to put what he feels into words but decides to give it a shot anyways. “It’s complicated, I guess. I don’t know, every relationship I’d had with a woman felt kind of empty, but I had no idea what I was missing and just thought that it was like that for everyone. Eventually I kind of just realized that that just doesn’t make that much sense, like, why would everyone put so much effort into faking happiness all the time, you know? And I guess I just picked up on how much more attention I paid to dudes, like thinking about what they’d feel like and shit. You can’t make a life out of what you think you’re supposed to do.” He decides to gloss over how much he wrestled with religion and morality over that time, it wasn’t something he felt like he needed to get into now, and it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about yet. At all.

Dennis nods absentmindedly, deep in thought and weighing what Mac had said. The longer the silence stretches out, the heavier it feels. The tension is palpable and Mac feels like if he reached out he could grab it in his hands.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and Iー” He takes a deep breath. “I think that I should try… doing stuff with a man.” His words are careful and painfully deliberate, almost like he was proposing some type of clinical study. Like it was a hypothesis he needed tested, the scientific method was tried and true and he needed empirical evidence.

“That’s okay, man. We can make you a Tinder profile or go to a bar tomorrow, or something, there’s one I’ve been going to in the east end recently, it’s not technically a gay bar but it’s one, like, unofficially.” Mac is trying so hard to look and sound like he didn’t just get the wind knocked out of his lungs, life was throwing him a curveball tonight. His head was spinning and he was trying so hard to keep his cool, no matter how badly he wanted to reach out and grab Dennis by the throat and kiss him like he’s wanted to since he was 16.

“No, not with a stranger. I think I need to kiss you.” Dennis’s eye drilled holes into Mac’s skin.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He might be legally brain dead. Unsure of what to do or say, he just stares back absolutely stunned.

“Okay? Then, can I?” This is probably the most Dennis has asked for permission before making a move, not in a dubious way, more that everything is often just more nuanced. Probably the most Mac had ever been asked. Now? Right fucking now?

“Yeah,” he manages to force out.

Dennis leans in, painfully slow, reaching up to place a hand lightly on his shoulder. Mac places a hand on his jaw, gliding his thumb over Dennis’s cheekbone. He takes in the look on Dennis’s face, his eyes are wide and uncharacteristically innocent. He’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him head on sometimes, like he’s staring straight into the sun. Mac leans forward to meet Dennis somewhere in the middle, covering his mouth in a kiss so soft it should be illegal. It’s gentle and unsure, neither knowing how far they should take it. Dennis tasted like every feeling he’d had for him in high school, everything that he’d pushed so far down inside himself hoping that they’d disappear. But that’s the thing about feelings, isn’t it? They’re messy and don’t like to be contained in tiny tupperware containers shoved to the back of your brain. Like all the times he’d gotten off to Dennis’s videotapes and lied to himself that it was about the women in it and not because it was Dennis, but lying to yourself is tiring and Mac could only have kept it up for so long. Eventually everything started to boil over and he realized that maybe he’d get off to those because it was a dude in the videos, more specifically it was Dennis.

Mac pulls back, wanting to gauge Dennis’s reaction. Suddenly feeling very naked when the cold air sweeps across his bare chest, wearing only a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He doesn’t get far before slides an arm around his shoulders, pulling him firmly forward until they crash into each other again, Dennis runs a hand through Mac’s hair, pulling gently. Like Dennis can’t seem to pull away, like he knew what it was like to breathe now and Mac was the only source of oxygen in the room. Mac moves his hands conservatively, unsure if there’s an invisible line in place, and trying very hard not to cross it. He settles his free hand on Dennis’s waist, rubbing small circles into the worn fabric of his pullover sweater; it was an old one, the colours were faded and the sewn on appliques of Dennis’s university logo had frayed in its twenty year lifespan.

“Here, you canー” Dennis breathes out, cutting himself off by lifting the hem of his pullover, encouraging Mac to touch his skin. His skin is incredibly soft, Mac’s hands run up his waist and over his ribcage, loving the feeling of Dennis shivering under his touch. One hand strays from Dennis’s waist, grabbing his ass through his sweatpants and pulling his hips forward making Dennis’s breath hitch.

Reluctantly, Dennis pulls back far enough to take off his sweater. Mac runs his hand over Dennis’s flushed and heaving chest, his lips are wet and open, breathing hard. Dennis leans forward, shifting so he’d straddling Mac’s lap, forcing him back against the wooden backboard. They’re way closer now than before, chests pressed firmly together. When they kiss again it’s different than before, the new angle and position allowing it to be deeper and dirtier than ever. Mac slides his tongue into Dennis’s mouth, gliding it across the back of his bottom teeth before biting into his bottom lip, pulling it towards himself. The sounds Dennis makes are things he would never let others know about outside of this one moment, it made them powerful, Mac would do anything to keep him making such beautiful noises. He wasn’t loud or anything, but would softly gasp or sigh or moan in such a way that Mac could feel himself growing harder with every one.

Dennis rolled his hips, grinding down on Mac’s partially hard cock. Mac groans at the new contact, muffled by Dennis’s mouth on his, he grabs at Dennis’s ass with both hands, pulling him impossibly closer as he chases that contact again. After a second letting his hands dip below the waistline of Dennis’s sweatpants, feeling his warm bare skin.

“Can I?” Dennis breathes out, still unsure of what’s okay, if either of them needed to tap out. He slips a finger or two into Mac’s boxer shorts to hint to what he wants. “I want to get you off.” He leans closer to Mac’s ear, his voice dropping half an octave and slowing, groping at Mac’s cock through the thin layer of cotton.

“ _ Fuck _ , yeah, God, yeah, go head.” The words fall out jumbled as Mac loses more and more brain functions to the sensations. He would let Dennis do anything to him right now.

They shift around slightly, allowing Mac to lift his hips enough for Dennis pull down his boxers, before kicking them to the floor somewhere. Dennis resettles himself on Mac’s thighs, his weight holding him firmly in place. He places a hand on Mac’s throat, pausing for a moment to scan his face and Mac would kill to know what he was thinking. 

In that moment, Dennis was absolutely breathtaking, his pupils were blown and his lips were slightly parted and shiny with spit. Mac doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful, every sunset, constellation, and forest fire there’s ever been rolled into one. He didn’t want it to end, he never wanted to have to move his eyes from Dennis’s face.

Dennis drags his hand from Mac’s throat down his chest painfully slowly. The anticipation is agonizing when his hand grazes down his abs. Mac’s breath hitches when Dennis’s hand wraps a hand around his steadily hardening cock. Mac swears to God he saw a slight smile creep its way onto Dennis’s lips for a split second when he sees Mac start breathing heavier in reaction to his slow, steady pumps. He spent so much of his life thinking about Dennis’s lips, mesmerized, he raises a hand to Dennis’s jaw. Dragging his thumb over his cheekbone, Mac gently tugs at his bottom lip, opening Dennis’s mouth slightly, Dennis presses a gentle kiss to the pad of Mac’s thumb. So soft it should be illegal, he shouldn’t be allowed to do that while straddling his friend’s thighs and jerking him off. Mac’s other hand holds firmly in Dennis’s hair, pulling him forward into a nose-breakingly hard kiss, pulling his hair harder than strictly necessary in a way that has Dennis moaning softly and breathing harder.

“Fucking, God, Jesus,” Mac breathed in the small gaps between their kisses.

“That good?” Dennis grins smugly, he already knew the answer.

“Yeah.”

Dennis pulls away, sitting back on his heels for a moment, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair.

“Heyーc’mon man,” Mac complains at the loss of touch. Catching his breath, he leans back towards the headboard.

“Oh, shut up.” He hadn’t resuming the previous speed of before, his hand was just ghosting over Mac, teasingly gentile. Dennis brought his lips to the side of Mac’s neck leaving marks he knows will be there tomorrow, sucking hard on the sensitive skin there like he was a vampire. The thought makes Mac laugh. “What? What are you laughing at?” Dennis’s voice is concerned, he stops stroking Mac completely, leaning back to scan his face.

“Nothing, it’s justーyou’re like a fucking vampire, dude,” Mac’s still giggling a little, rubbing a hand on the side of his neck, the skin’s sore and tender in the best way possible and still wet from Dennis’s spit.

Dennis glares at him, trying hard to keep that serious look before a grin breaks out on his face. “What? No, I’m not.” His smile was vibrant even in the dark. “And don’t call me dude when my hand’s on your dick.” His laugh broke the heavy tension in the room, like whatever was happening now was normal, just the next logical progression of whatever their relationship was before. And maybe it was. Maybe the way they’d been before made this inevitable.

“Whatever, man,” Mac says, knowing saying that would probably annoy Dennis as much as ‘dude’. Dennis pinches his thigh. “Hey!” He protests.

“Shut up, Jesus Christ, do you  _ ever _ stop talking?” Dennis never gives him a chance to respond, kissing him hard before Mac even had a chance to think of something snarky or sarcastic to say. Usually he knew just what to say to push Dennis’s buttons but the feeling of his tongue in Mac’s mouth made him lose most brain function. And when Dennis starts pumping his cock again, occasionally sliding him thumb over the head, there goes any brain function he had left. Familiar feelings well up inside him deep inside, the edge drawing near.

“Dennis, shit, Jesus, fuck,” Mac groans all in quick succession, trying to get Dennis’s attention and convey the message. “I’m gonnaー” he says, cut off by a moan.

“That’s it, baby boy,” Dennis near whispers, their foreheads pressed together. It was all so painfully happening. “That’s it, come for me.” That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“God, Dennis,” Mac groans as he comes, spilling onto his stomach and Dennis’s hands. He says both words in the same breath like they’re the same thing. Mac tries to catch his breath, reorient himself, their foreheads still pressed together, breathing in each other’s air. Dennis stroked him for a moment or two longer, stopping before it really starts to hurt, and wiping his hand onto a towel strewn onto a chair near Mac’s bed.

He brings the towel to Mac’s abdomen, looking up to his face, seemingly for permission. All Mac’s limited brain function can think to do is nod. Dennis wipes off his come softly and more carefully than Mac thought he was capable off. For some reason this felt more intimate than when Dennis was jerking him off, or when his tongue was halfway down Dennis’s throat.

When the ash seems to have settled, Mac takes note of how hard Dennis still is, and what kind of best friend would he be to leave him like that? Really, it was only fair to do something to take care of it.

He settles himself on the floor, directly between Dennis’s thighs, pulling off his sweatpants. Dennis’s eyes were dark, carding a hand through Mac’s hair, gently encouraging him forward. Tentatively stroking Dennis’s cock a few, trying to refrain himself from licking his lips. His mouth was fucking  _ watering _ thinking about putting Dennis’s dick in his mouth, about how long he’s thought of this, how long he’s  _ wanted  _ this.

Mac takes it in his mouth, slowly inching his way down to meet his fist at the base, trying hard not to choke. Dennis’s hand in his hair pulls tighter, pulling Mac further onto his cock until he chokes.

“Shit, shit, sorry,” Dennis says when Mac pulls off, coughing a little.

“Hey, it’s fine, bro,” Mac tries to reassure him, wiping spit off his chin and stroking Dennis’s thigh.

“Don’t callー”

“Don’t call you bro with your dick in my mouth?” Mac cuts him off, taking Dennis back in his mouth before he can reply. It was satisfying to have the final word for once.

It wasn’t long before Dennis’s hands were tight in his hair again, and he was moaning his name like it was some kind of prayer. Probably the first time Dennis had prayed in his life. Mac puts all his effort into doing it right, trying to make it the best blow job he’d given in his fucking life. It wasn’t the longest one he’d given, Dennis seemed to be close already. His jaw was starting to ache but he could never stop, everything he’d wanted since high school seemed to be coming to fruition, he probably would keep going if he got stabbed.

Dennis came with a groan, covering the bottom half of Mac’s face. Dennis takes a few deep breaths before starting to laugh almost, a smile wide on his lips.

“What?” Mac questions.

Dennis grabs Mac by his sore jaw, harder than necessary probably. “You look good like that.” He swipes his thumb across Mac’s cheek.

“Shut up.” Mac’s faces goes red, wiping it off with the towel used previously before letting it fall to the floor somewhere.

His knees click when he stands up, feeling ten years older instantly. Dennis is laying half on his bed, legs still splayed over the side. Mac sits on the edge beside him, falling back to mirror his position.

“So, did you get the answer you were looking for?” His voice sounded raw.

“Yeah,” Dennis answers after a beat. Mac feels like that’s an answer enough and knows that it’s not his place to pry and doesn’t expect Dennis to say anything else. “I’m gay.”

Mac nods, they stare at the ceiling in silence before slowly migrating into bed, pulling back on boxers and sweatpants like it’s no different from other times they’d shared a bed. It was just like the other times, really, except Dennis kissed him again before settling his head on Mac’s chest and an arm around his waist.

* * *

The morning came quickly, or more like 10:30am came quickly. When Mac woke up, one of his arms was around Dennis’s waist and they were impossibly close.

The gravity of what happened really set in, last night he knew in the back of his brain there was always the slight possibility that it was some insanely detailed sex dream no matter how much more real it had felt in the moment.

Dennis stirred, taking a deep breath, and opening his eyes. “Hey,” he says, voice rough and sleepy.

“Hey,” Mac answers pulling him closer.

The morning seems to follow the routine of their lives before Dennis had left. When they finally get out of bed an eternity later, Dennis goes to shower and Mac makes a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen.

It’s also so painfully regular, like nothing had changed at all in the past few months. Like Dennis had never left.

When he gets out of the shower, Dennis walks into the kitchen in his old university sweater from the night before and boxers. Mac pours him a cup of coffee, leaving it black like he likes it, that goddamn sociopath.

Everything was normal, except when Dennis took the cup of coffee, he gave him a quick kiss as a thank you. That wasn’t normal yet, per se, but Mac could definitely get used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading I'm @peachy-iasip on tumblr if you want to find me there!


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